Sunday, May 07, 2006

Holy Cow, Where've I BEEN?

Tending to this. Poor thing has been running a fever and feeling mopish since Friday. So I'm starting to think maybe I didn't poison us all, after all. I'm hoping the fever breaks tonight. Other than that, she's been eating and drinking well, and seems chipper enough, so I haven't panicked. It's just been hard trying to keep her quiet, and every time she'd run around, her fever would spike. It's unsettling, because this is a kid who is just never, ever sick, it seems.

Mom kept her Friday night so we could put in an early day Saturday at the old house, and was the first to take her temp...Little Bit had told us earlier that her head hurt, but didn't repeat it, and was happy and looking forward to going to Grandmommy's, so we didn't put 2 and 2 together. I think it was my sister who first said, "Hey, she's kinda hot." And bingo, she was.

She's been sleeping between us, and wakes up every few hours saying she needs a drink of water, at which point she sucks down one of the 16-oz. bottles of water I'm keeping beside the bed, and I give her another dose of Tylenol. The upside is that we get to hear, "I love you," approximately 72 times per night. She knows gratitude for good care, does this one. The force is strong with her.

As is her sense of humor, and her knack for a good comeback. On Friday night, when Aunt Andrea and Cousin Grayson stopped by Grandmommy's to visit, Grayson looked at the toys Bella had selected out of Grandmommy's toy closet, many of which are, of course, leftovers from his own toddler and preschool days. He noticed his old toy fire engine, and said, "Hey! There's my old fire truck!" Bella, of course, is in the prime of her life for possessiveness, and immediately yelled, "NO, IT'S NOT! IT'S MINE!" Grayson, ever the pragmatist, of course just looked bemusedly at her through his wise 8-year-old eyes (probably arching one eyebrow and smirking, if I know him), and said, "Well, actually, Bella, no, it's not. It's mine." You can imagine the response, and in giving logic one more go, Grayson appealed, "Bella, that fire truck was mine when I was FOUR."

The response from our 30-pound heroine? "Well, YOU'RE NOT FOUR NOW."

Gotta get out of here and put the computer away before she wakes. Update soon, and that list of soap descriptions I've promised so you'll all know what you have. There are still some packages that are going out on Tuesday, so if you don't have yours, it may be one of those. Some are Priority and some are regular mail, depending on what was the best shipping option for me. I appreciate everyone's patience. I am not the best at the prompt handling.

Yeah seriously, I wish I looked that good when I was sick as a wee dog. Man. I am sure you didn't poison all--that's what I thought initially too (when my son and I got so ill), but it was a virulent stomach virus. I hope she perks up soon. Love her defiant remarks to the Cuz!